Sharks' exit probably the end for Wilson in San Jose
In fact, Wilson barely made it back after last year's postseason collapse (hey, in San Jose, anything short of a Stanley Cup is seen as a collapse.)
On its heels, the Sharks held one of the longest exit interviews in the history of hockey, and every player was required to give full and frank views of the team, its future, and its coach. The coach didn't fare very well.
The problem is neither Wilson's hockey knowledge nor his ability to create a winning system. It has to do with his personality.
He is, to say the least, not one of those warm and fuzzy coaches that players love to play for. He is terse and sarcastic. In fact, he can be downright abusive. He thinks nothing of humiliating players in front of their peers.
On occasion, that method can produce results. But if it's the coach's only method, it wears thin.
One of Wilson's biggest failings was his relationship with team captain Patrick Marleau. At one point, the two went more than six months without talking to each other.
Wilson's defenders might say that the blame for that should be shared equally. But really, it's the responsibility of the coach to create channels of communication with his players -- and especially with his captain. If a coach isn't talking to his captain, what does that say about his relationship with the rest of the team?
Marleau is a quiet, sensitive guy who was fully aware that his coach never praised him, either publicly or privately. But finally, after Marleau was injured in mid-season, Wilson changed his tack and told the media that the team badly missed Marleau and needed his strong play.
Those comments did not go unnoticed. When Marleau returned, he played his best hockey in years -- perhaps his best hockey ever.
For a while, all was good around the Sharks. They rattled off a string of 20 games in which they did not lose in regulation time.
But then came the playoffs and with them, some of the usual postseason difficulties. Once again, Wilson reverted to the abusive tactics that he had been told by management to forsake.
Between periods in one game, he wrote the names of Matt Carle, Marc-Edouard Vlasic and Milan Michalek on the board in the dressing room.
Jabbing at the board for emphasis, he said, "These are the guys that are letting us down."
Humiliation in front of one's peers can, on occasion, be an effective weapon. But the Sharks have seen too much of it from Wilson. It did nothing to improve their overall play. As a result of this incident, and others like it, Wilson will almost certainly be replaced by a coach who is a little less acerbic.
No one is suggesting that players should not be held accountable or that they must be cajoled into playing well. They have a job to do and they're well paid to do it.
But they're also human beings and it doesn't take too deep an understanding of human nature to know that while the stick can be an effective tool, a carrot also needs to be held out on occasion.
In fact, the carrot approach was such a staple of the Edmonton Oilers' coaching staff in the early stages of the dynasty that the team's first Stanley Cup ring has a carrot on it.
But with the exception of the one incident with Marleau, the San Jose players under Wilson's regime rarely ever got to see the carrot. In fact, the reason that Wilson's predecessor, Darryl Sutter, was fired was that he was of the same mold.
So for as long as the Sharks have been among the ranks of the serious contenders, they have had a coach who relied more on intimidation than persuasion.
Where they go next remains to be seen. General manager Doug Wilson, who is one of the classiest guys in a sport known for classy people, isn't likely to tip his hand. But here's a suggestion for anyone who might be interviewed by Doug Wilson for the job.
Don't suggest that you're planning to rule with an iron hand. Instead, show up with bunch of carrots.
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